


The Past Ain't Through With You

by graysonofgotham (cruel_oath)



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: Gen, Past Character Death, Young Justice Outsiders
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 13:21:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17407685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cruel_oath/pseuds/graysonofgotham
Summary: He replays the footage again. Again. Again. With each replay, Dick feels something cold and hard settle in the pit of his stomach.“That can’t be him,” Dick whispers to himself. “It can’t be, he’s-”[Young Justice S3E6 Spoilers]





	The Past Ain't Through With You

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a _very_ long time since I've written anything for Young Justice (I don't think I've written anything for this fandom since the days I actively used FF.N), but because it's fucking _Young Justice_ I caved and got DC Universe because I've waited... so long...
> 
> As you can imagine, I have some serious feelings about episode 306 (I'm all about that Bat Family Angst™). I might wind up writing a follow-up to this when DC releases more episodes, but for now this work is considered complete.
> 
> If you haven't seen any episodes of season 3 and you don't want to see any major spoilers, consider this your spoiler warning.

_4:27 AM_

Dick narrows his eyes at the time displayed on the alarm clock beside him. By now, it’s been nearly an hour since they returned from Infinity Island. He’s had the entire ride back in the Bio-Ship to wind down, and he’s _exhausted_ from the past week of action, yet he’s _still_ not able to sleep.

As frustrating as it was, though, the inability to sleep was becoming more common every night.

Dick’s body protests when he sits up―it’s really a shame he can’t sleep, because this bed is so much comfier than the one back home, even if it is _emptier._ After another moment of thought, he decides he might as well get up. He figures there’s no sense in trying to sleep now, especially since M’gann and Conner are notoriously early risers even after a few hours of sleep.

As he slips out of Conner and M’gann’s guest room, he finds himself wondering if Kryptonians and Martians actually need sleep. He’s almost certain he knows the answer―he seems to recall a ten-year-old Dick Grayson rattling off questions to Martian Manhunter and Superman the first time he met them―but six hours of sleep over a handful of days does little when it comes to retrieving information.

Dick decides he doesn’t know M’gann’s kitchen well enough to try to make that tea Alfred used to make him when his insomnia was really bad. Besides, he didn’t want to be out for twelve hours like last time… not when he’s got so much to deal with right now.

He walks through the hall silently, passing the other guest room and Conner and M’gann’s bedroom. He makes his way down the stairs without a sound, quickly passing Jeff’s sleeping form on the couch. Dick opens the patio door carefully, slips outside into the mild summer night, then slides it shut.

Dick takes a seat in one of the lawn chairs. He pulls up the footage recorded on the camera installed in the lenses of his mask, finding the point where Sensei sicced what few assassins he had on the island on them. As he watches the footage, he recalls how… _difficult_ it was to fight the hooded assassin. It was like the man knew his every move, like they’ve fought before.

Ra’s al Ghul and Sensei knew _Batman’s_ fighting style. They didn’t care about _Robin’s_ fighting style, or _Nightwing’s_ fighting style. Though the hooded figure was obviously taught a few tricks with that sword, Dick recognizes that it’s not the style he’s accustomed to using.

Dick knows _his_ style anywhere. After all, _he_ was the one who trained him.

_But that can’t be him._

He replays the footage again. Again. _Again._ With each replay, Dick feels something cold and hard settle in the pit of his stomach.

“That can’t be him,” Dick whispers to himself. “It can’t be, he’s-”

 _Dead._ Dick remembers the explosion. He remembers screaming his name, running towards the burning building and leaving his teammates in the dust. He remembers Wally putting out the fire, and Conner locating his body with his X-ray vision, and M’gann lifting up the rubble.

Dick remembers holding his lifeless body in his arms.

He pulls up the footage from years ago, back before everything felt so… _dark._ Back when the team had yet to lose anyone to the life, when Robin became Nightwing and Nightwing took the newest Robin under his wing.

The footage plays out exactly as he remembers. The Bio-Ship is at top speed, racing towards the building Robin is trapped in. Then there’s the explosion, which sends the Bio-Ship flying in the opposite direction. When the camera pans back to the building, it’s nothing but a pile of smoke and rubble.

_No possibility of escape. Not when he was restrained and beaten within an inch of his life._

Dick dismisses the holographic computer, then leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. _That was his body. Superman confirmed it through X-ray vision. I was there when his body was examined. And his grave… it hasn’t been disturbed… unless…_

There are many other questions that he has― _when_ could Ra’s have possibly managed to get to the grave without making anyone suspicious, _how_ could he have made it out of the Wayne Family Cemetery without Bruce’s knowledge, _why_ would he want the body―but those could be answered later.

Right now, Dick wonders how he’s supposed to get Jason back home where he belongs.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/_nightwngs)! You can also find me on [Tumblr](https://niightwng.tumblr.com/) and [Pillowfort](https://www.pillowfort.io/deviltrigger) (though I'm not as active on those platforms as I am on Twitter).


End file.
